


Relentless and Immovable

by ApatheticRobots



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Dialogue, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel Fix-It, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25663555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApatheticRobots/pseuds/ApatheticRobots
Summary: With his partner dead in every sense of the word, Knock Out's not really sure what to do with himself from here. He had never really known exactly where his life would go, but with Breakdown no longer at his side, anything past the present moment might not exist at all. His future is a total unknown.He'd wanted to see Breakdown again. But this was not what he meant.
Relationships: Breakdown/Knock Out
Comments: 56
Kudos: 205





	1. Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> here we go.
> 
> This work is completely written, and I'll be uploading one chapter a week, or as close to it as my schedule allows. Full work should be posted by mid-September. I haven't actually gotten past Season 2 Ep. 22 of TF:P, so in an effort to avoid discussing plot points I'm not totally sure on, assume things go pretty much as they do in canon until the end of The Human Factor, at which point stuff just goes off the rails for fixit purposes.  
> ill be updating tags as they become relevant. 
> 
> thanks to my friend Glitch for beta'ing, you can find xem on here @Glitched_Fox. Luv u bro <3

Folks had a tendency to make a lot of assumptions about Knock Out when they first laid optics on him. They assumed he was narcissistic (which was correct), they assumed he was a little unhinged (which was also correct), and they assumed he only cared about himself. He could understand why the last assumption was made-- his haughty, egotistical attitude certainly gave the impression of a mech who didn’t give one iota of scrap about a single other individual. 

Unlike the others, though, this assumption was wrong.

He didn’t care about many bots, that much was true. Most of the folks he knew would be left for dead if the situation arose. But saying he cared about  _ no one _ but himself was exaggerating. There was at least one other mech that Knock Out was fond of.

Unfortunately, that mech was dead. So the assumption technically  _ did _ ring true. There was no one online that Knock Out cared about besides himself. 

It was a little funny, in a morbid sort of way. Back when Breakdown was still alive (actually alive, with his own spark and processor running his body) Knock Out found himself almost making friends with some of the other ‘cons on the  _ Nemesis. _ He’d never be friends with Starscream, and he was pretty Soundwave wanted nothing to do with anyone except Megatron, but some of the lower ranks? Yeah, there were a few that Knock Out might have been close to calling friends.

And then Breakdown died, and Knock Out had a hard time caring about literally anything. The one mech he’d truly call himself close to had taken his chances of branching out in terms of friends with him when he’d died. The bastard.

He really did believe Breakdown would’ve found it amusing, what he was doing to the hollowed frame that lay clamped to the medical berth. The irony of it all. He’d have thought the payback fitting for what the humans had done to him first.  _ You scratch my paint, I scratch yours. _ They dissect his partner, he’d dissect them. 

Briefly, he considered belaying the actual dissection plan, doing a little experimentation in his free-time before taking the shell apart. Then he remembered how pissed Megatron had looked and decided it was probably best if he followed orders. For now. 

In his defense, he hadn’t  _ meant _ to kill the human squatter so quickly. But you know how it is; a little too much high grade, get a little too angry, move a little too suddenly, and accidentally take a man’s head off. Couldn’t be helped, really, mistakes like those. They were bound to happen eventually. Could’ve been anyone in his pedes that slipped up like that. It was best to just move on and continue with the original plan best one could.

It was unfortunately difficult to actually extract the organic bits from Breakdown’s frame. The humans had done such janky work in their efforts to fit another entity in a body designed so precisely, and it made it so removing said entity was a more complex job than he’d initially thought it would be. He had to saw through a  _ lot _ of the frame’s internals to eventually remove the corpse. MECH had obviously never intended for the parts of this abomination to be separable. 

Once he finally did get the human body out, though, he wasted no time in having it incinerated without fanfare. It would not get a funeral. It would not be returned to its people. It would never be reanimated again.

In the end Knock Out was left with a very hollow frame lying still and cold on the medical berth. The color hadn’t faded entirely, so when he didn’t look at the blank optic or the hollow chassis he could almost pretend Breakdown was just in recharge. Then he realized that actually made it so much worse and forced himself to stare right at the proof that his partner was dead for a few kliks. 

Primus, they’d removed his whole spark chamber. How sick  _ were _ they?

Megatron would be expecting a report, and he’d be expecting Knock Out to go back to work like everything was normal. Knock Out briefly channeled the spirit of Starscream and considered killing him. He’d lost someone before, he should know just how terrible it felt.

(Then Knock Out remembered that the one Megatron had lost was still technically alive and well, and even though they fought every time they interacted, they still saw each other on the regular. He could practically hear Screamer’s voice urging him to give assassination a go. Then he decided he was mourning, not an idiot, and pushed away the murderous intent.)

He had to do something with the corpse. He knew Breakdown would kill him if he wound up buried on Earth, and it would be disconcerting if a patient walked in and saw a dead guy laying there. Just keeping it in his habsuite would be weird, right? 

What he ended up doing was picking up the hollow frame (ignoring how light it was with all the internals removed) and hauling it into the medbay’s storage room. The room itself contained some dusty tools, empty crates that once held supplies, and a few spare parts. No one ever came in here except Knock Out and he hardly used it. Perfect place to store a corpse until he could figure out a more permanent solution.

He sat down at his desk with a sigh, nursing a cube while trying to put together a report that sounded aloof enough for Megatron’s standards. As much as he wanted to write pages of slander against the human race, the warlord would get tired of that pretty quickly.

_ Organic parasite removed and disposed of, _ he typed out,  _ empty frame deemed useless for further study and taken care of. _ He didn’t elaborate on what the last part meant.

No one would ask, anyways.

No one cared enough to do so.

Whatever. He could still work even if he was grieving. He could fix someone even if he was buzzed, and if they ended up with a few new scratches in their paint, was that really his problem? No, it wasn’t. He was a medic, not a cosmetic artist. Not to anyone but himself, at least.

He finished the dissection report and sent it off, then begrudgingly acknowledged that he should probably finish the rest of his paperwork while he was at it. When he’d joined up with the Decepticons he really hadn’t expected quite as much bureaucracy. It was better than all out chaos, he supposed, but only by a slim margin. At least with chaos it was a lot easier to get away with things you weren’t supposed to do. But with Soundwave meticulously checking every report they sent in, he wasn’t slipping  _ anything _ by the communications officer.

About halfway through his reports, there was a ping from his fuel gauge informing him that they were very close to being on empty, and he started to call out for Breakdown to grab a cube for him before he remembered the body that had been on his table earlier and his vocalizer abruptly died.

Right. Breakdown was dead.

Dead. Dead and he wasn’t coming back. Not like every other time he’d almost died, and Knock Out had been able to bring him back from the edge. He couldn’t fix it. Not this time.

_ Dead dead dead dead _ \--

He slammed a fist against the table, the sharp sound as it dented and the pain in his servo enough to snap his processor out of the repeating loop it had created. He couldn’t afford to fall apart. Megatron would kill him for it. (For a brief moment, he considered the idea, and that it might let him see Breakdown again. Then he shut that dangerous thought before it could go any further. He was mourning, not suicidal.)

He was just mourning. That’s all it was. He’d get over it eventually. 

As he lay in his berth that night, staring at the ceiling and failing to recharge with his digits carving streaks in his paint he knew he’d be mad about in the morning, he just wished he could get over it a little  _ faster.  _ Although-- as much as he wanted to get over it already and go back to normal, he also really wanted to see Breakdown again. Alive, this time.

He closed his optics.

When the ever-present humming of the ship beneath him disappeared and was replaced with quiet stillness, warmth settling over his frame, he opened them again. And had to refrain from screaming.

The dim setting of his habsuite around him had been replaced by the light of an Earth sunset, tall trees above him swaying in the gentle breeze. 

And, kneeling over him with a pair of servos on his shoulders, was an all-too familiar face. One he’d seen greyed and lifeless a couple hours ago. The expression on his recently deceased partner’s face was filled with concern.

  
This was  _ not  _ what he meant.


	2. Deus Ex Machina (because who else could it be?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time travel was little more than a distant dream for even the best of Cybertron’s scientists. And here he’d managed to achieve it just by being kind of sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's probably the most canon-compliant out of any of the chapters
> 
> Also-- kind of considering doing updates twice a week, Sunday & Wednesday or something instead of just Sundays. Not a guaranteed thing but I'm thinking about it. mostly because of my own impatience lol

Assess the situation. That was the first thing his processor managed to convince him to do among the torrent of confusion. First thing: where was he? He could tell easily enough that he was still on Earth, but other than that, the area was vague enough that he could’ve been almost anywhere. _Could’ve been,_ except for just how familiar the area was. Dry and warm, the dirt under him closer to packed sand than actual soil. 

They had been scouting a trail. In a few kliks, Starscream was going to call, summoning them to the _Nemesis_ because Megatron was half dead with a hole in place of a spark chamber. Breakdown would keep going and end up fighting the Autobot Bulkhead.

He knew because he’d _been here_ before.

“Knock Out!” Breakdown shook him. Gently, because he'd been Knock Out's assistant long enough to know that shaking an injured mech was a bad idea, but enough to rattle him a bit. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he wheezed. “Help me stand.” 

Breakdown obliged, moving back and standing so he could offer Knock Out help up. Knock Out took it, gripping the offered servo and pulling himself to his pedes, and brushed the dirt off his frame. His fuel gauge was sending error after error. As was his chronometer. The latter was struggling to right itself, numbers flicking rapidly until they stopped on a time that was long before when he’d last checked it.

So he was in the past. Or, his processor had convinced itself he was in the past. This could all very well be an elaborate dream, a fantasy cooked up by his grieving mind in order to help him cope. He knew all too well what losing a partner could do to a mech. He’d been a medic during wartime long enough to see the effects of grief in action. 

Dream or not, he wasn’t going to squander the opportunity.

“What happened?”

That got him a frown. “You just fell over in the middle of talking. All of a sudden, no lead up. Optics went dark and you hit the dirt. Your processor glitch or something?”

“Or something.” He gripped Breakdown’s servo with a bit too much strength. “I believe I’m just in need of a bit of refueling. Let’s finish our search, hm? No point putting it off just because I had a little slip up.”

“Are you sure? If you’re not feeling good, you shouldn’t--”

He was interrupted by their comms buzzing simultaneously. Knock Out heaved an exaggerated sigh. Right. A fair exchange and all-- he had Breakdown back, but now he had to deal with a pissy Starscream some more. 

“Screamer?” Breakdown looked mildly disgusted. Knock Out could understand the sentiment. “Ugh. Do we have to answer?”

“I’ll go,” he said, “you keep on that energon trail. Stay out of trouble, alright?” 

Breakdown nodded, throwing him one last concerned look and a “you too, boss,” before transforming to his alt-mode and driving off the way they’d been going. He’d find Bulkhead and one of their human pets there-- they’d fight, and Breakdown would get away, no worse for wear. 

And then they’d go to the museum, and there would be another fight, and Starscream would get an Energon harvester. And then _more_ fighting and Bulkhead would destroy it and--

He needed to write everything down. Before he forgot it. He could do that later, though; for now, he had a meeting to attend. He replied to Starscream’s comm with a set of coordinates. He wasn’t going to bother driving to meet up with them like he’d done before. If Screamer wanted him there that badly (which he knew the Seeker really didn’t, but was outvoted,) he could spare a groundbridge. 

A swirling portal opened up a few moments later. Knock Out strolled through.

Soundwave, who had evidently opened the portal, barely acknowledged him as he stepped out onto the bridge of the ship. Starscream stood facing the window, silhouetted by lightning and making the whole thing far more dramatic than it needed to be.

“There you are, Knock Out,” Starscream said, that ever-present sneer on his face. “Took you long enough to respond.”

It was barely five minutes. Knock Out refrained from rolling his optics. “Sorry about that,” he said instead of being completely sarcastic, “it was a bit of a drive. We were a bit busy, didn’t think we’d need to be at your every beck and call.”

The sneer deepened. “Never understood why any self-respecting Decepticon would choose wheels over wings.”

“What can I say?” he grinned. “I like the way I look in steel-belted radials.” It rang as true as the last time he said it. Most of his decisions were made out of a desire to look pretty. The rest were made out of a desire to go fast. The alt-mode he'd chosen ticked both those boxes.

Starscream just rolled his optics. “Come,” he said, sauntering past. “There’s work for you in the medbay.” 

Work in the form of a Megatron on his deathbed. Knock Out was pretty sure he managed to look adequately surprised-- Starscream didn’t comment on his lack of a reaction, in any case. “Sadly, our inevitably former Lord Megatron has been like this for some time. The crew took a _vote,_ however, and they decided it was best if an expert were called.” It was clear in his voice that Starscream had voted for the opposite. He’d have been all too happy to offline Megatron out of what he’d probably try to pass off as a mercy kill.

Knock Out sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’ll have you know it’s a lot easier _breaking_ mechs than fixing them,” he said with an emphasis of a briefly transformed drill. “Breakdown will show soon enough, by the way, he simply has a… prior engagement.”

“Too busy to answer the call of his commander?”

“Scouting a fresh energon trail. Something I believe you’d be interested in.” He tilted his head, leaning closer to examine Megatron’s rusting frame. “Also thought he might’ve picked up an Autobot energy signature.”

He hadn’t, but Knock Out knew who would be there anyways.

That piqued Starscream’s interest. He raised a brow. “Oh? Did he find anything?” 

Breakdown commed him a moment later, Bulkhead’s name mentioned among the rest of the report. Knock Out grinned wider. “It would seem he did.”

They were back on the bridge just as Breakdown drove through the groundbridge Soundwave opened, transforming to his root mode and giving Starscream half a salute. “Didn’t find much energon that we could mine,” he said, taking his place at Knock Out’s side, “but I did find an Autobot. And something else that might be useful. Ever heard of an energon harvester?”

“Yes,” Starscream said warily, “what about them?”

“Think there might be one on Earth.” 

That got Soundwave’s attention, finally. Or, at the very least, it got him to look up from his computer. Knock Out gave him a little wave. “Yes,” he said, transmitting a set of coordinates. “Evidence suggests it’s here. The humans have it on display.” Soundwave would’ve found it in time, but if Knock Out knew how things would go, why shouldn’t he use that to his advantage? Getting to one-up the silent know-it-all was not a chance he would pass up.

A cruel grin made its way onto Starscream’s face. “I suppose that _does_ warrant looking into. Are you two capable of handling it on your own?”

Breakdown started to say they were, but Knock Out held a hand up. “Ah… if we were able to discover its location, there’s a good chance the Autobots were as well.” He nodded at the communications officer standing nearby. “Send Soundwave with us. We’ll keep the Autobots distracted while he collects the harvester.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed. “Can’t handle a couple of puny Autobots?”

“Better not to risk it. Wouldn’t want that harvester falling into enemy servos, would we?”

It clearly pained the Seeker to agree to a plan that wasn’t his, but he _did_ still have functioning logic circuits, so he just waved a hand in agreement. “Do what you will. Just make sure you get that harvester.”

Knock Out gave a mock bow. “Of course, _Lord_ Starscream.” A pause. “Ah-- one moment. Sir. If I may, I’d like to request a weapon, of some kind. My tools are more designed for use on a mech not fighting back.” He’d almost forgotten-- he didn’t have his prod yet.   
  


Starscream seemed irritated, but he pulled the prod out of his subspace and tossed it over anyways. “Will that suit you?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, swinging it experimentally, glad to have the familiar weight back in his servos. “This will do _nicely.”_

How had the fight at the museum gone? They’d gotten the harvester in the end, and come away relatively unharmed. It had started out well. He’d gotten the jump on the Prime and managed to incapacitate him… it was Bulkhead, wasn’t it, who’d ended up causing them problems. He’d jumped down and, oh yes, gotten himself so clumsily slammed into Knock Out. Which allowed the Prime to get to his pedes and--

Eugh. He’d make sure that didn’t happen this time around. They’d gotten the harvester, so it had all ended well enough, but he still wanted to avoid scratches in his paint if he could. Some quiet part of his processor was saying it was a bad idea, trying to change the way things would go, butterfly effect and all that. But the rest of it didn’t care all that much. He still wasn’t sure this was real and not a fever dream, and even if it _was_ real, he wasn’t exactly enjoying the life he’d been living before. Maybe changing up the timeline a little would be good.

There was one thing he was sure about, he decided as the groundbridge to the dark street opened. He would _not_ lose Breakdown a second time. Not when he had the ability to stop it. They’d get the harvester, Screamer would _lose_ the harvester, then he’d spend the rest of the evening writing down every little thing about the future he could remember.

“Soundwave,” he said, sending the other mech a map of the area around the museum. “Head around back. Breakdown and I will distract the Autobots in the front lot. Once you get the harvester, we’ll rendezvous back here. Copy that?”

A silent nod was all he got. Good enough. 

He turned to Breakdown with a grin. “Now then,” he said. “You and I are going to have some _fun.”_

The lot was quiet as he drove in, semi idling in front of the building the only visible sign of life (though he knew there were three other Autobots waiting in the wings.) He whistled appreciatively, because as much as he thought the guy was kind of annoying, Optimus Prime _did_ have sweet rims. Knock Out liked mechs that looked like they could toss him around for fun.

  
“You’re _real_ heavy duty,” he purred, “just like my friend here.”

Breakdown had been working with him long enough to know his cue without them having to discuss it first. He chose that moment to speed in, pulling out his cannon and firing a rocket, which the Prime (predictably) transformed to grab and stop from hitting the building. In his moment of distraction, Knock Out got to his pedes and slipped just out of the Prime’s line of sight, waiting until he looked back over to strike him in the neck. He stumbled forward, falling to the floor, which Knock Out used as an opportunity to jump over and shock him again, the big mech’s optics flaring with the surge of electricity. 

The other two Autobots were handled with a couple well placed rockets. This time, when he heard stomping footsteps above him and saw the big green lug hurtling overhead, he ducked to the side before his partner’s attack could send Bulkhead slamming into him. Which meant he wasn’t knocked back, and when Prime began to stir, he could shock him into submission once more.

A small change. But it still made Knock Out’s processor race. He’d _changed_ the way things had gone. Prime was still out, and Soundwave was rising into the air with the energon harvester gripped firmly in his servos. 

He hummed, kicking Optimus in the head once before moving to stand beside Breakdown. “And that,” he said, “would be game.” 

With a flip, he transformed and drove off, Breakdown hot on his heels.

The groundbridge didn’t lead them back to base, rather to the ruins Breakdown had stopped at before, where Starscream stood waiting. He held his servo out expectantly. Though Knock Out knew Soundwave was internally irritated at the display, he handed over the energon harvester without so much as a moment’s hesitation. Then he turned and bridged back to the _Nemesis._ He clearly wanted no part in this.

He was probably right to do so. He’d pissed Starscream off enough with his loyalty to Megatron that if he’d stuck around, he might’ve been the test case.

“Why bother wasting our time finding a _new_ deposit,” he said with a sharp-toothed grin, “when we could just take what’s right here? Courtesy of this gift from those ancient Autobots, of course.”

Knock Out knew better than to say anything. Breakdown, however, did not have the benefit of hindsight-- he glanced over at Knock Out, then spoke up. “Actually, uh, commander,” he said, “it was me and Knock Out that got it for you.”

Starscream sneered, holding up the harvester in what was clearly meant to be a threat. While Breakdown’s flinch back was genuine, Knock Out’s was more a way to make the commander feel like things were actually going his way. Getting complacent now was not a good idea. The seeker would be gone soon enough anyways, and he wasn’t sure he’d get a third chance.

It was no less horrifying watching the energon be sucked out of the vehicon by the strange orb Starscream held the second time around. So he didn’t have to fake a reaction there. What was just as horrifying was the reassurance that the seeker really _didn’t_ care about the forces he commanded. He was happy to sacrifice one of them just to scare Knock Out and Breakdown into being a little more respectful. He supposed he should be glad neither of _them_ were the example, but the utter disregard for life didn’t make him and more comfortable around the unpredictable seeker.

“So much energon,” he mused, “in such a tiny vessel.”

“O-of course!” Breakdown glanced at Knock Out, clearly wondering just who the hell they’d gone and allied themselves with. “Real helpful of those, uh, ancient Autobots.” After that got him a glare, he added; “uh, _Lord_ Starscream.”

That mollified the seeker enough that he stopped paying attention to them and started on the dull blue crystals buried in the dirt.

He may not have needed to be unnerved by the ghastly display earlier, but he did need to pretend not to notice the massive Autobot pitifully trying to sneak up on them. Bulkhead was really not built for stealth. He winced as there was the sound of breaking porcelain behind them.

Oh, that’s right-- they’d accidentally hit each other last time, hadn’t they? Knock Out was happy to avoid that, mostly because it had made Breakdown very upset that he’d accidentally hurt him. But he couldn’t just _actually_ manage to incapacitate the Autobot. That would mean Starscream would keep the harvester, which would only end up spelling disaster for them down the line. He also couldn’t just not attack, though, that would make Starscream suspicious. This whole ‘benefit of hindsight’ thing was _not_ as easy as one would think.

When Breakdown veered right, hammer held at the ready, Knock Out instead headed forward. Bulkhead dodged their strikes once more by jerking backwards. Instead of getting hit, Knock Out merely ducked under Breakdown’s hammer, and Breakdown himself stumbled and tripped, landing heavily in the dirt. 

Knock Out could claim injury had stopped him from getting to his pedes and striking the Autobot as he charged Starscream. Then again, there was a good chance the seeker couldn’t see him behind Bulkhead’s… well, bulk. 

It _was_ rather impressive, watching Bulkhead withstand the energon literally being stolen from his form. And it was always fun to see Starscream get punched. Passing out immediately after was a little less impressive, of course, but he’d served his purpose. The energon harvester wouldn’t be used against him or Breakdown by anyone.

Probably for the best. It was something of a barbaric device, anyways.

Knock Out got to his pedes, pulling Breakdown up as well. He didn’t even bother drawing his weapon. The groundbridge opened behind them, and when Breakdown raised his fists and glanced at him with a “Fight?” he merely hummed and shook his head. 

“Drive.”

So they did that, speeding away from the scene and calling the _Nemesis_ for a bridge back. Starscream could make his own way home. He’d crash in through a window if he had to.

The seeker was miffed about the loss of the harvester, obviously, and he made it quite clear to everyone else on the _Nemesis._ Stomping around and barking orders and holding his wings so they smacked people in the face as he walked past them. It was a little disconcerting, for a moment, but a comm from Soundwave’s direction of [Starscream: throwing a temper tantrum] reassured him that this was just temporary. The acting leader would come up with another asinine plan soon enough.

A couple of the vehicons helped them find an empty habsuite to claim, and once they’d gotten settled, Breakdown laid down on the berth and pulled Knock Out against him with a sigh.

“Hell of a first day on the job, huh?”

Knock Out hummed in agreement, resting his head on his partner’s chest, propping the datapad he was typing on against the other’s plating. He still needed to get his memories of the future down somewhere tangible before the fine details evaded him. With the adrenaline of the day’s activities (and his realization about his travel) fading, he was able to put a little more thought into his situation.

How _had_ he gotten back here? Time travel was little more than a distant dream for even the best of Cybertron’s scientists. And here he’d managed to achieve it just by being kind of sad. So why him? What made _Knock Out_ of all mechs so special that he’d get a second chance? He was great, of course, but being pretty didn’t make him a paragon. There were many, many other mechs who deserved what he’d gotten. So why were they forced to live with their unfortunate futures forever, while Knock Out got to go back and fix everything that had gone wrong?

Was it a result of some outside interference? The work of _Primus_ or something like that? Knock Out wasn’t exactly the religious sort, and he’d never done much research into the existence of god, but he was pretty sure if the big guy was known for sending people back in time, he’d have heard about it by now. Maybe. This _did_ seem like the kind of thing the ever-mysterious Primus might do. If not the will of someone else, had _Knock Out_ somehow managed to send _himself_ back in time? The sudden mutation of abnormal abilities wasn’t unheard of, stress did strange things to a spark. But again-- _time travel_ seemed a little out of nowhere. He’d lost people before, if this was going to happen just because of a little grief, wouldn’t it have already happened long before now?

_He’d lost people,_ his processor reasoned, _but he’d never lost_ Breakdown.

Breakdown, who was currently trying to get his attention, and probably had been for a few kliks while he’d just stared at the datapad in silence.

“Knock Out?” He said again, concern evident on his face. “You okay?” Such an uneasy look never suited him.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Knock Out said, shutting off the datapad and pressing himself closer against Breakdown’s frame. “Just… happy to be somewhere safe with you.” He could wait to finish his logs later. Right now, he had far more important things to do. Like hug his partner and not let go for a very long time.

Breakdown, probably deciding that whatever was bothering Knock Out was best dealt with by distracting him, snorted a laugh. “If you can call anything involving Starscream ‘safe.’ That mech’s a disaster waiting to happen.” He adjusted his grip to make Knock Out a bit more comfortable. Always so considerate, his Breakdown was.

“ _Safer_ , anyways. Better than spending the night in the dirt.”

“Definitely more comfortable. Kinda liked seeing the stars, though.”

Knock Out leaned up so he could tuck his face into the crook of Breakdown’s neck. “I’ll get you a holo projection of the sky,” he murmured, already halfway to recharge, “or some of those sticky plastic stars humans make.”

Breakdown laughed, turning his head and pressing a kiss against Knock Out’s forehead. “You’re so good to me.”

“Only th’ best for you.” He sighed, the hum of a familiar spark a sound he’d greatly missed. As well as the feeling of a warm frame cradling his own. He’d just missed his partner, and said as much with a drowsy; “missed you, Breakdown.”

“Missed me?” His partner huffed, the sound infinitely fond. “I never left.”

It was probably good he fell asleep then. He might not have been able to stop from telling Breakdown that he _did_ leave. He left Knock Out alone. But he’d come back, and he _wasn’t_ going to leave again.

Not while Knock Out had anything to say about it.


	3. Discongruity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While he didn’t need it as much as he once had, it was still exhilarating being able to drive fast just for the sake of driving fast. Not because he needed to be somewhere or run from someone. He was able to just push his engine to its limit without having to worry about Starscream or the Autobots getting on his--
> 
> A horn honked behind him. Adjusting his rearview let him see the yellow and black muscle car that was quickly catching up to him.
> 
> He'd forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 time. here's where that "canon divergence" tag really comes into play. 
> 
> I'm gonna stick with my current upload schedule for now, as Ive got something I can post in between chapters, but i might pick it up a bit if i go too long with no new content

Knock Out was sure the tapping of his pede against the base of the table was annoying at this point, but Breakdown (sitting across the room reading) didn’t say a word. He also didn’t say a word when Knock Out angrily hurled the datapad he was typing on. It hit the wall and landed with a clatter, and Knock Out paced for a few moments while muttering to himself, then picked it up and got back to work, the datapad miraculously not broken.

He  _ did _ speak up when Knock Out once again threw the tablet, this time hard enough to get it lodged in the metal of the wall.

“Okay,” Breakdown said, getting up and walking over to set a servo on Knock Out’s back. “Think you need to take a breather. That poor datapad didn’t do anything wrong.” He reached over with his free servo to pry the device out of the wall and hand it back. “What are you working on that’s got you so riled up, anyways?”

“Ah…” He couldn’t just say what he was  _ actually _ doing. On one servo, he trusted Breakdown more than any other mech he’d ever known, and his partner wasn’t going to immediately dismiss his explanation as nonsense. On the other… he didn’t want to outright tell Breakdown ‘you die in the future.’ That would not end up going well. He’d probably try to do something stupid like go kill Airachnid  _ now _ so she couldn’t kill him later. Which would change the timeline far too much for Knock Out to still be able to use his knowledge to keep Breakdown safe. Something he could not have.

  
“Writing… a diary.”

That got him a snort. “A  _ diary?” _

  
“Well, I’m writing about my favorite topic, obviously.” He checked the datapad for damages, then tucked it into his subspace. He wasn’t getting any more work done with Breakdown looming over his shoulder. 

  
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” 

Knock Out grinned. “Myself.” A beat passed. “And you.”

“Aw, shucks.” Breakdown leaned down so he could wrap his arms around Knock Out from behind, pressing the sides of their heads together. “Charmer.”

“Hm. Perhaps. I’m just being honest.”

“Sure you are.” He kept his arms around Knock Out, but leaned back with a slight frown on his face. “Seriously, though, is everything good? You’ve been staring at that datapad like it’s going to try and attack you. I know we’re kind of emotionally constipated, here, but it shouldn’t be that tough getting your thoughts into words.”

He sighed. “It’s not. I’m just irritated at my… failing memory.” There were some specifics about the timeline that he couldn’t quite remember. It made him nervous, not knowing-- he couldn’t be sure if those details were crucial to making sure Breakdown survived. 

“Failing memory? You’re not  _ that _ old, Knock Out.”

“Oh, I’m old enough.”  _ Older than you, technically. _ By several months. “But the compliment is well received.”

Breakdown rolled his optics, concern evidently forgotten-- Knock Out was acting just as conceited as he always was. The medic bounced back quickly, but if something was actually wrong, he’d be a bit less composed about it. “Well, if you need help, I’ve been with you for a while. Could probably fill in some gaps.”

He hoped his grin didn’t look as forced as it felt. “No, I’m afraid you weren’t there for most of what I’m trying to recount.”

“Really? Must be a long time ago, then.”

“In a sense.” It hadn’t happened yet, but same difference.

Breakdown pressed against Knock Out for a moment longer, then stood up and went back to where he’d been reading. “Oh, hey, had another question, actually.” 

Knock Out glanced at him.

The concerned look was back. Oh, dear, what had he done this time? Had he let something slip? Did he not look adequately content? Had Breakdown somehow read what was on the datapad? That last possibility sent a bolt of fear down Knock Out’s spark, and he reminded himself to put a passcode on it later. He just had to pick a date that wasn’t something  _ also _ relevant to Breakdown. Which was… harder than it sounded. Maybe he’d pick the date his partner died. That was something Breakdown wouldn’t be able to guess.

“So, I remember before we joined up with the rest of the ‘cons, when we were just wandering the planet,” he said, “you’d go racing some nights. You liked kicking the humans afts and watching them get all pissy after you beat them. But you haven’t gone since we got here-- why’s that?”

He blinked. That’s right-- last time, he’d gone street racing enough times to get Screamer on his case about it. This time, he hadn’t left the ship once except to go on missions since they arrived. He hadn’t felt the urge to.

His racing had always been a way for him to let off excess charge. It was an issue his frame had always had, being built to fly then reformatted for driving would never come without problems. There were several ways to deal with the extra energy his engines produced, but racing proved to be the least complicated one. Plus he did like watching the humans get mad when they lost. He hadn’t once gotten that familiar jittery feeling that came with being overcharged, though-- he’d been spending all his time with Breakdown. What did you want him to say? He missed his partner, and now that he finally had him back, he wasn’t going to waste time with something as pointless as a race.

Plus, that would involve actually  _ leaving _ Breakdown’s side. Which was something he’d hardly done. He couldn’t shake the fear that this was somehow temporary, that if he stopped paying attention his partner would vanish in a puff of smoke. Or he’d look over and that handsome frame would be hollow and shaded grey again. He couldn’t risk leaving Breakdown, who  _ knew _ what might happen while he was gone?

“Oh, you know,” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as it sounded to his audials, “just don’t want Starscream getting up my exhaust pipe because I’m wandering out when I’m not supposed to. You know.” 

“That all?” He didn’t  _ seem _ to notice Knock Out’s unease. “I’m sure Screamer would understand if you explained. You shouldn’t stop doing something you like just ‘cause of  _ him.  _ Of all mechs.”

“Right. Yes, of course, how ridiculous.” He was being ridiculous. “I think-- I’ll just go ask him now. Not getting any more writing done this evening anyways.”

Breakdown smiled, giving him a wave. “Have fun. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“You’d better,” Knock Out said, tone more serious than it should’ve been as he got to his pedes and left the room.

He wasn’t actually going to ask Starscream. That would be asking for trouble. The seeker had told him to ask permission after he’d gotten caught last time, but Knock Out was positive that was just an excuse for Starscream to say no. So he’d just do what he always did and request a groundbridge under the guise of ‘reconnaissance.’ None of the operators would ask him questions if he gave them that sharp-toothed grin and showed a little sawblade.

Within minutes he was speeding across the desert, simply reveling in the feeling of the wind biting against his plating.

  
His comm crackled to life, and from the radio sounded Breakdown’s voice; “You didn’t ask Screamer before you left, did you?” He sounded both very disappointed and completely unsurprised by the course of events.

“And let him tell me no? ‘Course not.”

Breakdown sighed. “I told him you were out gathering intel. He bought it, but that’s only gonna get you a couple hours, so just try to come back sooner rather than later?”

“No promises.” He changed stations, and the comm clicked off. He guessed Starscream’s lax attitude and blind acceptance of the excuse was only because he hadn’t already been breaking the rules by racing this time around. As of now, this was his first time leaving the ship to go racing since they’d joined. 

A car pulled up to his bumper, honking once before jerking to the side and passing him in a cloud of dust.

If  _ that _ wasn’t a challenge, he didn’t know what was. He shifted into a higher gear before speeding after the unknown party.

“Found a race,” he commed to Breakdown. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck. Knock ‘em dead.”

Their destination ended up being a paved ditch in some backwater desert town. The human that stood as their flagger raised her hands just as Knock Out pulled up, and as she brought them down, they were off with the roar of several high-power engines revving simultaneously.

The race went well for all of two minutes, according to his chronometer. He sped past most of the other competitors, leaving their pitiful human vehicles in the dirt. He  _ had _ missed this. While he didn’t need it as much as he once had, it was still exhilarating being able to drive fast just for the sake of driving  _ fast. _ Not because he needed to be somewhere or run from someone. He was able to just push his engine to its limit without having to worry about Starscream or the Autobots getting on his--

A horn honked behind him. Adjusting his rearview let him see the yellow and black muscle car that was quickly catching up to him.

He’d forgotten. He’d  _ forgotten. _ This was something important and he  _ hadn’t remembered it. _

He was already pushing it, risking a stall if he went any faster, but he sped up regardless. This was supposed to be fun. He’d finally been able to convince himself that Breakdown wasn’t going to disappear if he looked away for five minutes, and then he’d gone and forgotten that there would be an Autobot hanging around  _ this _ specific town on  _ this _ specific day. 

“Ah, Breakdown,” he opened the comm. “I may have run into a spot of trouble.”

“What? Some uptight organic put a scratch on your bumper?”

“Not quite. What’s the yellow Autobot’s name again?”

  
“ _ What?” _ He’d gone and made Breakdown concerned again. Woops. “Where are you? Is Bumblebee attacking? I’m calling a groundbridge, hang on--”

  
“No! No, that’s not necessary, don’t you worry. I can handle it, really.”

“Knock Out…”

“What?” He veered to the side, using the side of the canal as a ramp and launching himself onto the main road. He pulled a u-turn and cursed as he heard the screech of tires follow. He did  _ not _ want to deal with this tonight. “I can handle it myself! I’m not going to fight him. Just thought I’d let you know so you didn’t worry if I got home late.”

He heard a mumble that sounded suspiciously like ‘I always worry,’ but didn’t have much time to think about it before Breakdown spoke again. “Just don’t get killed, alright? Let me know when you need a bridge back.”

“Count on it.” 

He turned sharply, spinning his wheel as far to the right as it would go then spinning it back just as fast. The Autobot’s tactic would’ve worked last time, had the other human not shown up to bother him. Maybe Knock Out could utilize it for himself. Bulkhead or the two-wheeler probably would’ve kept looking, but Bumblebee seemed more the reasonable sort.

The muscle car was far enough away that his headlights were mere pinpricks. Good. The distance gave Knock Out time to find an adequate hiding spot, where he’d wait and call Breakdown for a pickup when the coast was clear. This was  _ not _ how he’d been intending for the night to--

His planning was cut off by something very big and very  _ green _ slamming into his side. His tires spun out, and he ended up having to transform back to root mode to catch himself and avoid slamming full force into a jutting boulder.

Bulkhead raised his fists as the two-wheeler pulled up next to him and brought out her blasters. Bumblebee was nowhere in sight.

Knock Out cursed.

“Look,” he said, raising his hands, “I don’t want any trouble, alright? I was just leaving, actually, so if you’d put the weapons down and let me go, I’ll be--” he cut off with a yelp as he had to duck to avoid blaster fire. “Hey!” He snapped. “I’m trying to surrender here!”

She snorted. “Sure. And I’m a triple changer. What did you want with Bee and Jack? Were you planning on leading them into a trap?”

“ _ Actually, _ I didn’t even know they’d be here.” He should have. He  _ really  _ should have, but apparently his memory was already betraying him. He supposed the incident has been minor enough that his processor hadn’t deemed it important, which was true-- he’d only lost a door for it all. The actual damage had been done by Starscream, long after the fight itself. Breakdown hadn’t been injured at all. And since Breakdown was his main concern… he’d forgotten. “I was merely trying to enjoy a little street race, let off some steam. If I was trying to lure your friends anywhere, don’t you think I wouldn’t have tried as hard as I did to lose them?” 

Bulkhead frowned. “Hey, Arcee, I think he might be telling the truth.”

Huh. Who knew the former Wrecker was capable of listening to reason once in a while? 

“You really trust this ‘con, Bulk?”

“No. But, I mean-- think about it. If he wanted to hurt Jack or Bumblebee, why would he have just run away? He’s got ranged weapons. He could’a turned around and attacked at any time. But he didn’t.”

Arcee still looked suspicious, and she kept her blasters out, but she stopped pointing them directly at Knock Out’s spark. “Were you really just down here to race? Why?”

He rolled his optics. “I  _ do _ have a life outside the Decepticons, you know.” He didn’t owe them much more of an explanation than that. Plus he was  _ really _ starting to get anxious that Breakdown was going to come looking for him if he didn’t get back soon. “Can I go now? If I don’t get back soon Starscream’s going to realize I’m not gathering intel, and then you’ll have to deal with  _ him. _ ”

The Autobots both hesitated, but after a moment Arcee retracted her blasters. “Fine. Go. We’ll be watching, though, so no funny business.”

“Uhuh, sure.  _ Ciao.” _ He pinged the  _ Nemesis _ for a groundbridge, and as soon as the portal opened, he was in alt-mode and speeding through. He didn’t even glance back to see the alarmed faces of the Autobots before it closed. 

He flipped into a seamless transformation sequence and landed on his pedes just as the door hissed open and Breakdown walked in. “Took you long enough,” he said, wrapping an arm around Knock Out’s shoulders and tugging him along. “Screamer was just about to go looking.”

“Sorry. I got a little held up.”

“Not hurt, are you?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “Those Autobots couldn’t lay a scratch on me.”

Breakdown rolled his optics at the casual confidence. “They probably weren’t trying.”

“Hey!” He shoved at Breakdown’s side, but only succeeded in getting himself pulled closer as they walked, his partner laughing at his pointless efforts.

He started to pull away at the door to their habsuite closed behind them, but found himself pulled into a firm hug before he could protest, head tucked against dark blue plating. Blunt digits dug into the plating on his back. 

“I was really worried,” Breakdown mumbled. “You’ve been acting kinda weird lately. You’ve barely left the ship, and when you do it’s always with me. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

He felt a rush of guilt. “It’s fine, Breakdown-- really. If there was an issue, I would tell you.” So long as it wouldn’t make Breakdown inclined to run off into danger if he did say something. It wouldn’t be a problem again, anyways. He was done racing. Unless Breakdown came with him, he was done going  _ anywhere. _

His partner still looked concerned, but he seemed happy enough to let it go when Knock Out distracted him with a highly exaggerated tale of his encounter with the Autobots.

Which was good. Worrying was Knock Out’s job.


	4. How to Avoid Mutually Assured Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock Out rolled his optics. Not only had he failed to stop Breakdown from getting kidnapped, now he had an Autobot brute to deal with. Ah, well-- probably easier this way. At least now he didn’t have to go out and make trouble to get their attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say abt this one :) except that things start gettin meaty here....

Knock Out probably would’ve been a lot happier about their leader’s miraculous recovery if he didn’t know Megatron could be legally diagnosed as a nutcase at this point. If he didn’t remember that sickly purple glow of the Dark Energon in the warlord’s chassis that could bring dead things back to life. That grossly unnatural stuff. It had a grip on Megatron like a drug, keeping him dependent and screwing him up horribly the whole time he was using it.

So yeah, he’d have enjoyed not having to listen to Starsceam keep pretending to be good at being in charge if Megatron were actually up to his usual standards of intelligence and not completely fried in the processor. As it was, he was still marginally better than the seeker, but only marginally.

And Knock Out hadn’t forgotten how he’d been so willing to abandon Breakdown last time. He was still a little bitter over that.

Speaking of, that was where he was headed now, actually. To rescue Breakdown. Or, rather, stop Breakdown from needing to be rescued in the first place, if he got technical. It was both a rescue and a rescue in advance. Rescuing Breakdown from his fight with the Autobot now so he didn’t need to be rescued from the humans and their sick organization later.

A rescue attempt which was not actually going very well.

It had taken him an unfortunately extended amount of time to convince Soundwave that yes, this was important, and yes, he really did need this groundbridge. The communications officer was never easy to read (something Knock Out kind of loathed about him), but it was more than obvious to anyone that spent five minutes about him that he was enthralled with their newly revived leader, not having much patience for anyone else. So when Soundwave did finally agree to bridge Knock Out down to the provided coordinates, he was sorely behind schedule.

He just hoped he wasn’t  _ too _ late.

The immobile green bulk lying on the ground and the significant lack of blue or orange anywhere in sight told him that yes, unfortunately, he was.

Knock Out spat a curse as he transformed back to root mode.

There was the obvious sign of a scuffle in the dirt, the evidence of what had gotten Bulkhead lying unconscious on the ground obvious enough in the space around them. A casual observer might have thought whoever Bulkhead was fighting had simply left once his enemy had stopped fighting back. However Knock Out, with his benefit of hindsight, knew the real answer was  _ quite _ different.

Bulkhead groaned where he lay on the ground.

Knock Out rolled his optics. Not only had he failed to stop Breakdown from getting kidnapped, now he had an Autobot brute to deal with. Ah, well-- probably easier this way. At least now he didn’t have to go out and make trouble to get their attention.

He knelt down beside Bulkhead, reaching over and gently smacking the Autobot’s face. “Hey,” he said, “wake up.”

When that failed to work, Knock Out rolled his optics again, sending an electrical charge to one servo and smacking Bulkhead’s chest with it. The jolt was enough to jumpstart his systems, and with a panicked shout and his optics flaring, he scrambled to a sitting position. Knock Out had to jump back to avoid slamming their heads together.

“Watch it!” he snapped. “You could’ve chipped something.”

“Wh-uh-- Knock Out??” Bulkhead frantically transformed one arm into a blaster, pointing it at him. “What’re you doing here?”

“Failing to keep Breakdown from getting captured. Get up, I need your help.”

  
“What?”

He huffed a sigh. Apparently this would require a little more exposition. “Very,  _ very _ long story short, Breakdown was kidnapped by that filthy human organization that’s been bothering you. MECH. They’re going to do some very uncomfortable experiments on him and I would rather get him back before they learn enough about Cybertronian biology to be able to build a device that can kill us at the flick of a switch. With me so far?”

“Uh, yeah, but I don’t see why you need me to--”

“You as well as all your Autobot friends. And…” Knock Out scowled, kicking the dirt with one pede. “I need your collective help because Megatron is insane and doesn’t care about Breakdown enough to spare some soldiers to go save him. I know you have some epic rivalry with Breakdown, but this isn’t just for his or my benefit. It’s for  _ all _ of our benefits.”

Bulkhead stared at him for a moment, completely silent. His expression was partly skeptical and partly something unreadable. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  
He snorted. “Please, you think Breakdown would’ve left you alive if something else hadn’t dragged him away from the fight? Unlike the rest of you, he doesn’t care much for silly things like  _ honor _ . He fights to win. You would’ve been dead if MECH hadn’t gotten their slimy little hands on him.”

“That’s not very reassuring for how grateful he’s gonna be when we try to help him.”

“Of course he’s not going to be grateful. That idiot thinks he’s invincible, he’s convinced he can get out of it on his own. But he doesn’t know what’s best for him. So  _ I _ have to step in before things get worse.”

“How do you even know all this?”

“Call it intuition.” He smacked Bulkhead’s leg. Gently. “Now get up-- I’m not expecting you to give me the coordinates to your base, but I’d appreciate it if we could get your team and get a move on sooner rather than later.”

“Just wait a--” Bulkhead paused, raising a servo to the side of his head. A comm-link. “Miko?” Knock Out waited for him to finish his conversation in silence. “Just… Tell Ratchet I need a groundbridge.” Optics flicked in his direction. “And that I’m bringing company.”

The bridge opened next to them a few moments later. Knock Out stood, not bothering to offer Bulkhead help up as he stepped aside and gestured. “Autobots first.”

Walking right into the Autobots base without someone else there to explain first would not end well.

Bulkhead gave him another indecipherable look before shoving himself to his pedes and stepping through the groundbridge. Knock Out made sure to follow before it closed behind them. He couldn’t actually see much of the Autobot’s base yet, thanks to the big hunk of metal standing in his way, but he could hear well enough.

“‘Course you managed to get banged up on a simple scouting mission,” a voice was saying. Crotchety, annoyed, belonging to their medic Ratchet if he wasn’t mistaken. “Sit down and let me fix it before you start leaking all over the--” 

“ _ Behind you!!” _

Knock Out stopped, raising his servos at the whine of a blaster powering up. Bulkhead stepping to the side let him see the two-wheeler looking very ready to shoot him.

“Woah, hey, hang on a sec Arcee!” Bulkhead raised an arm and held it in front of Knock Out. “He’s fine! He needs our help.”

“...What?!”

“Yes,” Knock Out said, keeping one optic on the weapons pointed in his direction. “I promise this isn’t a ploy, it’s for the benefit of everyone including yourselves, etcetera etcetera. I would love to explain but we’ve wasted quite enough time as it is and may I please just speak to Prime so we can get this over with?”

Loud footsteps were enough to get the attention off of him as Optimus Prime walked into the room in all his shiny glory, Bumblebee at his side. He looked between Arcee (still holding her weapons aloft) and Knock Out (trying to look like he wasn’t cowering behind Bulkhead) with a frown. “What is going on here?”

“Says he needs our help,” Arcee said with a scowl, “I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true! Cross my spark!” Knock Out looked to Optimus. “Look, you’re an honorable sort, right Prime? This isn’t some trick, this is  _ serious. _ And it involves both our factions.”

Prime sighed. “Arcee, lower your weapons. Bulkhead-- let Ratchet tend to your injuries. And Knock Out,” he fixed the medic with narrowed optics that would make any sane mech nervous, “speak. If I suspect you are planning anything that could bring harm to the Autobots, I will not hesitate to throw you out myself.” It was a promise he could definitely make good on. Those big strong arms… no, now was  _ not _ the time to ogle. Breakdown was in trouble.

“It’s MECH,” he said, pulling his optics away from Prime’s assets and meeting his gaze. “That group of humans that’s so obsessed with how we work? They’ve taken Breakdown prisoner. The information they get from him could be enough to put  _ all _ of us in danger. If they’re able to figure out how a Cybertronian functions, they could very well create something capable of offlining us all with the push of a button. Or worse.”

That got Prime’s attention. His optics widened, and he looked to his teammates.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Arcee said, tone still full of suspicion.

“I think he is,” Bulkhead piped up from where he sat on the medical berth. That tiny human he was so fond of (Miko?) was standing on a platform across from him. “I didn’t beat Breakdown. I-- I thought he left or something, when I woke up and he wasn’t there, but Knock Out was. And he told me Breakdown had been captured.” He huffed. “He said that Breakdown wouldn’t have left me alive. He would’ve finished the job, unless something stopped him. I know Breakdown-- and he’s right. I  _ shouldn’t  _ still be alive. So it would make sense that something had stopped him.”

Optimus scowled. “Ratchet? Bumblebee? What do you think?”

Ratchet huffed, squinting against the sparks made by the welder he was holding. “I think he’s full of scrap. But if MECH  _ does _ have Breakdown… that won’t end well for us or the Decepticons.”

[“If this was a trick, you’d think we’d already be under attack by now,”] the yellow scout beeped. [“I believe him.”]

Prime looked to Arcee, the only one who hadn’t given an opinion. She looked torn. “It doesn’t seem smart… but neither does letting MECH get a hold of Cybertronian schematics. I say we take a look, and if it turns out he was lying--” she sent an icy glare in Knock Out’s direction, “--we tear his plating off.”

With a grim expression, Optimus nodded. “Majority rules. We will help you rescue Breakdown,” he said, looking to Knock Out. “For the sake of both our factions.”

Some part of him was surprised they’d agreed so readily. He expected them to help in the end, of course, Prime would never willingly leave another Cybertronian to suffer, but he expected more of an argument. It had taken a while for Breakdown to be rescued last time. The realization of just  _ why _ they were so willing came with Bumblebee giving him a friendly wave. They didn’t hate him near as much this time around. He’d never attacked Bumblebee, and he’d never taken a human hostage. So they had no reason to be extra bitter about him, and by extension, his partner.

“Ratchet, activate the previous groundbridge coordinates. We set out immediately.”

“Ah-- wait,” Knock Out held up a servo. “Just one moment.”

The Autobots looked to him. 

“You won’t find him there. Here--” Knock Out pulled a datapad from his subspace, one with both the coordinates Breakdown had told him he’d been trapped at last time as well as a map of the tunnels. He tossed it to Ratchet. “That’s his current location. You’ll find a combined attack far more effective than a solo one.”

Optimus gave him a strange look. 

“Nevermind. Let’s not waste anymore time, hm?”

The Autobots all gathered near the bridge, each of them keeping one optic on Knock Out (who hadn’t really moved away from it) as Ratchet copied over the coordinates he’d been given. Bulkhead sidled up to him.

“Look,” he said, frowning the best he was able. “I don’t like Breakdown. If it were up to me, we’d leave him to MECH. I’m sure he’s told you about our history--”

“He has.” Knock Out huffed. “He doesn’t like you much either. But he thinks you’re a good rival.”

“...He does?”

“Oh yeah. You’ve seen how Megatron gets whenever Prime shows up in a fight? Breakdown’s on his pedes in seconds if he hears  _ you’re _ going to be on the field.” Usually because he wanted a chance to kill him, but Bulkhead could draw that conclusion on his own. “He likes fighting you. It’s refreshing. Most of the vehicons break too easy when he goes at them.”

“...Huh.” 

“So you don’t have to like him, you definitely don’t have to forgive him, and you don’t have to stop fighting him. Just--” A hint of desperation slid into Knock Out’s voice, “help me save him. Please.”

The violation had never left Breakdown last time. He’d clammed up every time Knock Out had laid him down and tried to give him an examination. If Knock Out could keep him from having to experience that trauma again, he’d beg as much as he needed to.

Bulkhead’s expression softened. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s save that sorry piece of scrap so I can rub it in his face, yeah?”

“Whatever motivates you.”

The groundbridge crackled to life. One by one, the Autobots made their way through. Miko gave them a cheerful wave as Knock Out was nudged along by Bulkhead and the base disappeared in a swirl of green.


	5. Preventative Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s alright,” Knock Out soothed, running a servo across his partner’s back. “Whatever they did to you, I’ll fix it. And they won’t get a chance to do anything to you ever again.” He was glad Breakdown couldn’t see his face-- the murderous glint in his optics might’ve made the poor thing nervous. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good evening :) 
> 
> i never learned whether the "major character death" warning meant a major character in the source media or in the fic itself and at this point im too afraid to ask--  
> (theres, like, murder in this one.)

The groundbridge let Knock Out and his Autobot party members out a little ways down the tunnel, just before the large door that sealed off the part MECH had commandeered for a lab from the rest of it. The Autobots all pulled out various weapons while Ratchet looked at a scanner in his servo.

“Detecting a Cybertronian life signature,” he said, nodding at the door. “Through there.”

Bulkhead stepped up to the obstacle, transforming one servo into his mace, and slammed it against the sheet of metal. He and Breakdown really were built from the same stuff-- something in the way? Hit it until it wasn’t.

A few more hits with his mace and the metal went flying, at which point the humans on the other side immediately opened fire. The bullets did little against Cybertronian armor meant to withstand much worse. Bulkhead broke his way through the ranks, the other Autobots following close behind and catching any stragglers with their weapons held at the ready. Knock Out wasted no time in darting past them to get to his real goal.

The humans around the computers aimed their weapons to fire at him, but the two-wheeler’s blaster fire at their feet was enough to deter them. Though they clearly didn’t care about them a whole lot, the Autobots were still obviously trying to avoid taking human life if they could help it. Noble idiots that they were.

Careful to avoid the fire being exchanged, Knock Out managed to get close enough to his partner to be able to pull out a saw and destroy the various mechanical arms poking at Breakdown’s frame with one quick swipe.

“Wha--” A single, dim yellow optic blinked at him. He mentally cursed for not arriving soon enough to stop that. At least his chest plating was still in one piece. “Knock Out?”

“Yes, I’m here. Apologies for taking so long.” He got to work on cutting through the cuffs holding Breakdown to the table. “Also, apologies for the company I decided to bring.”

That only seemed to confuse Breakdown more. The bruiser kept still until the rest of the restraints were removed, at which point he shoved himself up and grabbed Knock Out in a hug. Something that ended up being closer to him just draping himself over the smaller mech. Knock Out was quick to put his weapon away and return the embrace.

“They did something,” Breakdown muttered in his audial. “Broke something. I feel like scrap.”

“It’s alright,” Knock Out soothed, running a servo across his partner’s back. “Whatever they did to you, I’ll fix it. And they won’t get a chance to do anything to you ever again.” He was glad Breakdown couldn’t see his face-- the murderous glint in his optics might’ve made the poor thing nervous. “I promise.”

Breakdown hummed, letting himself relax against Knock Out, seemingly oblivious to the battle raging around them. Then he shifted slightly. And made a very alarmed noise, struggling in Knock Out’s hold. “Auto--” He sputtered. “Autobots??”

“Ah,” Knock Out said, “yes, well. I did apologize for the company.”

“Um??”

“Our  _ great and glorious leader _ didn’t think it too important to plan a rescue for you in any sort of timely manner, too busy being jacked up on narcotics and a belligerent attitude, so I took things into my own servos. Called the only mechs I knew would be too honorable to leave you down here. I…” He shifted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t have been able to save you on my own. I’m only one mech, technically not even built for combat. I’m good. But not that good.” It was almost painful to admit, but he knew it was true. MECH would’ve just captured him alongside Breakdown and then they’d  _ both _ be in trouble.

Breakdown was silent for a few moments.

“Breakdown?” Knock Out pulled back to get a look at his companion’s expression. “Are you alright?”

  
“Could be doing worse.” He was squinting at the Autobots gathered near the back of the room, blasters out and firing at the remaining MECH soldiers. Most of them had already fled. Including, Knock Out noticed with an angry burn in his processor, that parasite Silas.

No matter. Knock Out could find him again.

“Yes, as we have discovered, they’re disgustingly capable. Can you stand?”

“Mhn. Maybe. Is that Bulkhead?”

Knock Out refrained from answering. Using the shorter mech as a crutch, Breakdown was able to get on his own two pedes, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. They managed to get out of the firefight before something in Breakdown’s leg twinged and he went sprawling to the floor, dragging Knock Out down with him. They ended up a pile of red and blue as they both (more uselessly, in Breakdown’s case) sought to free themselves.

Knock Out leaned against the wall with a sigh once he pulled himself away, watching as the fighting slowly died down. The humans were escaping. The Autobots, unwilling to harm fleeing organics, let them go.

Knock Out would take care of them later.

“Knock Out,” Optimus Prime said, not pointing his blaster at them but keeping it out. “Is he alright?”

“He will be. I’ll fix him up to perfect condition once we’re home.” 

Bulkhead sighed. “Great.”

“Do we have to let them go?” Arcee looked to Prime. “Could just keep them as prisoners. Ratchet could fix whatever’s wrong with the big one.”

Optimus closed his optics in a movement Knock Out recognized (mostly from how often he’d done it himself) as something attempting to convey ‘Primus give me strength.’ “Arcee,” he said instead of answering her question, “look at the humans’ computers. Make sure they didn’t manage to accquire any information on Cybertronians that may end up causing problems down the line.”

Arcee huffed, but trotted over to crouch down before the sets of computers. The ends of her digits were pointed enough that she was able to type on keyboard build for smaller hands. “I’ll delete all the stuff here they’ve got on Breakdown,” she said, “but I can’t be sure they didn’t transfer the data somewhere else.” Pulling out her blaster, she fired a shot through the middle of the computers. The screens flickered and went dark. “It’ll set them back a bit.”

“Good.” Optimus looked to Breakdown and Knockout where they sat. “...We will allow you to leave peacefully now,” he said. “Tend your wounds. But be advised, we will not extend this mercy a second time.”

“Course not.” Knock Out glanced to the Prime. “Oh, you might want to groundbridge out of here from the tunnels. Don’t go outside. MECH’s got an ambush prepared.”

That got him a skeptical look. “How can you be sure?”

  
“Call it a hunch.” He was too tired to give them any more of a convincing explanation. “Go on, then. We’ll get home on our own.”

Optimus was still looking at him skeptically, like he knew there was something Knock Out wasn’t telling him, but he evidently wasn’t curious enough to press the issue. He turned back to his team. “Ratchet, bridge us back,” he said. The Medic pulled a remote from his subspace and tapped at it. He and the two-wheeler were gone through the bridge as soon as it opened, followed a moment later by Optimus. Bumblebee gave Knock Out another wave before he trotted through.

Bulkhead looked to the two of them. “Look… Breakdown, I--”

“Just go,” Breakdown said wearily. “We’ll kill each other later.”

The Autobot clearly wanted to say something more, but he was cut off by a crackle of static that was almost certainly a shout in his comm and ran off through the bridge. The portal closed, and Knock Out and Breakdown were left alone in the dimly lit tunnel.

“You just  _ had _ to get the Autobots for help, didn’t you?”

“Would you have preferred I left you there?”

“No,” his partner said with a resigned sigh. “I’m glad you came to get me. Really. You’re a sadist but these guys are just  _ nuts. _ I’m trying not to think about what might’ve happened if you’d taken longer, ‘cause it can’t have been anything good.” 

_ It wasn’t, _ Knock Out almost said.  _ They almost sawed through your spark chamber. They would’ve taken you apart. They got enough information to figure out how to turn you into a puppet. The trauma stuck with you until the day you died. It was excruciating for you to even get a routine check up, with how much you hated being laid out on a medical slab. _

“Yes, well. You’re welcome,” was all he said instead.

“How’d you even know to come get me?”

Knock Out paused. The urge to tell Breakdown everything was tugging at his processor. He could trust Breakdown, he knew he could, and he knew his partner would believe his claims about the future. But telling Breakdown risked him trying to change things on his own, and without him knowing every detail of how the events he was involved in would go, there was a significant chance he’d change something that would have bigger consequences.

He might change something that would leave him dead in a way Knock Out couldn’t predict.

“I just… knew.” Knock Out looked away. “I’ll tell you-- I promise. Just… not today.”

Breakdown hesitated for a moment, as though he hoped Knock Out might change his mind and spill. When Knock Out stayed silent, he sighed again, then shoved himself to his pedes. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here. Tired of looking at these walls.”

“Right.” 

They began trudging down the now silent tunnels, not really caring whether they stepped on any of the dead or unconscious humans lying around. Breakdown went a little further, actively trying to kick a few of them as he passed by. He was clearly bitter, but he’d seemed to have all his faculties back, and besides the missing optic there was hardly any damage to his frame. It had gone better this time. Knock Out had fixed it.

Benefit of hindsight.

He saw Breakdown twitch in the corner of his optic, and when he glanced over his partner was moving his arm back to hang at his side. Knock Out could recognize the movement for what it was-- he’d reached over to grab his servo, then decided against it at the last minute. 

Knock Out huffed and took initiative. He threaded his digits through Breakdown’s own, giving his partner a patient smile at the startled blink the movement got him.

They kept their servos intertwined until the end of the tunnel came into view. The end of the tunnel along with the blinding lights of the cars parked outside, holding several humans all no doubt sporting guns pointed in their direction. Breakdown sighed and pulled his servo away to transform it into a weapon. “More fighting.”

“Just a little bit. Starscream will arrive soon enough.”

Breakdown snorted. “Think I prefer the humans.”

The rescue had clearly come sooner than MECH was expecting, because the forces waiting outside were significantly lacking compared to the ones Knock Out remembered last timeline’s Breakdown describing to him. A handful of cars and not a single helicopter to be seen. It brought him some kind of satisfaction that they’d managed to catch the organization off guard. 

He just had to hope they were off their guard enough that he’d be able to get ahold of their leader before he managed to get away.

Breakdown came out running, slamming a pede into a nearby car and sending it flying. It crashed into one of the abandoned buildings across the field. He whirled around in time to catch another car as it drove towards him. The force crumpled the front of the vehicle. He barely paid any mind to the bullets pinging off his frame.

Knock Out took a slightly less ‘brute force’ approach, stepping up behind a car and neatly sawing it in half before the humans had a chance to pull away. He pulled a drill on one that tried to catch him by surprise, driving it through the hood until he hit the dirt beneath it. Now cut through with a jagged hole, the engine sputtered and died. The humans inside scrambled to escape, and rather than join their comrades in trying and failing to shoot him, they simply ran off into the night.

Let them run. He only needed to keep track of one human.

The clipped sound of helicopter blades drew his optics skyward. He squinted through the helicopter’s front window, and upon spotting the large scar across the driver’s face, grinned pointedly. 

“There you are.”

He picked up one half of the car he’d sawed in half earlier, and aiming carefully, flung it towards the helicopter. In an attempt to dodge, it moved downwards, which meant the projectile got twisted up inside the blades instead of hitting the chassis directly. Unable to stay airborne, the helicopter sputtered and spiraled towards the ground, landing somewhere in the distance and sending a cloud of smoke skyward.

“Breakdown!” He called, just as there was the familiar whine of jet engines high above them. “Screamer’s here!”

“Took him long enough!” His partner hurled one car at another, and Knock Out felt the heat of the ensuing explosion wash across his frame. “I’m ready to get the pit outta here. Let’s keep that Autobot thing on the down-low, huh?”

“Yes, yes.” He glanced towards the still smoking wreckage of the helicopter. “I’ll catch up. Got something to take care of first.”

“What--”

He transformed and sped off before Breakdown could finish his query. He’d explain later. Right now, he had some retribution to deliver.

He ended up switching back to root mode before he arrived at the crash site, his much quieter bipedal form allowing him to sneak up on the wreckage. One part of him hoped the parasite had just died in the explosion, it would make his job a lot easier, but another part hoped he was still alive just so Knock Out could have the pleasure of ripping him apart.

There was a creak from the twisted pile of metal. Knock Out narrowed his optics.

Something that once might’ve been a landing skid was shoved out of the way, and a figure stumbled out, bent over and coughing. Knock Out narrowed his optics. He took a step forward, crushing a piece of debris under one pede, and the sound made the figure spin to look at him. In the light of the flames crawling across the wreck, he saw the scar across the human’s face.

He grinned with all his teeth, hoping he looked suitably intimidating as he transformed one servo into a saw and stepped forward. “I’m afraid,” he said, “that you’ve made a very grave mistake.”

The human tried to run. He wouldn’t be slipping away this time. 

Knock Out caught up with him in a few long strides, not caring to be gentle as he wrapped his digits around Silas and lifted him to optic height. Even as strong as he was, it was nothing against Cybertronian strength, and Knock Out squeezed a little harder.

“Anyone else,” he said. “Had you picked any other mech than  _ that _ one, you wouldn’t be here now. But you hurt him, and I don’t take kindly to people damaging what’s  _ mine.” _

Silas spat at him. He tightened his grip, and both heard and felt the bone snap beneath his grip. He had to give the parasite some credit-- he managed to refrain from screaming at the injury. Not many could keep their cool in this kind of situation. 

He let go, and as the human hit the ground, he wasted no time in pinning him with a digit and leaning forward.

“This is for  _ Breakdown, _ ” he hissed.

The lack of a scream this time was less out of being able to keep his cool and more because his head was no longer attached to his body. That would make it hard for anyone to scream. Knock Out hummed to himself as he went about continuing his impromptu dissection. This really wasn’t proper protocol, he hadn’t even sanitized his tools beforehand, but he’d already disgraced his old teachers enough. They were a lot more likely to be disappointed by his unrelenting sadism and the fact that he’d allied himself with the Decepticons than that he was a little callous with keeping his workspace clean.

It was pretty unlikely Silas would be coming back from  _ that, _ even if they did manage to get ahold of another corpse to shove him in. It was a lot harder to put a brain back together than rewire an already intact one. His servos were already plenty dirty, so he was a little less disgusted picking up the viscera to dispose of it, but only a little. Organics really were nasty little things. 

Had he wanted to put a little more effort into making a show of the execution, he might’ve done something more. The human concept of sticking heads on pikes as a warning always appealed to him. But then he decided that he was just really tired of all this, and tossed the gore into the fire. It would burn up there. And even MECH, with all their technological advances, couldn’t make a monster out of a pile of ashes.

Funny. Cutting him up and incinerating him felt just as good as it had the first time he'd done it. Only more satisfying, since he knew by doing so he was preventing something horrible from happening to his partner. It was done. Silas was  _ gone. _ Their sickening reanimation progress and desecration of Breakdown's corpse would  _ never _ come to pass. There was still the matter of Airachnid to deal with, but that would come later-- for now, Breakdown was safe from the deranged organization’s twisted plans.

He made sure to find a body of water and rinse the blood off his hands before calling for a groundbridge back to the ship. Such a sight would raise  _ questions, _ after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✨ murder is a solution to your problems ✨
> 
> please tell me if this needs any warnings beyond what i put in the tags already i still dont really know how the AO3 tagging system works


	6. Grandfather Paradox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was all way beyond his expertise. He could fix mechs. He could not fix the time-space continuum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally just filler because i realized halfway thru writing the fic that there were, like, way more episodes between operation: breakdown and crossfire than i had remembered. so heres me summarizing the end of season 1 and the beginning of season 2 in like One Whole Chapter
> 
> nothing really plot important happens here so im lowkey considering uploading chapter 7 today too. or uploading it a few days early or something

Despite the fact that most of his experiments were motivated by sadism or a chaotic desire to see what would happen if he performed some screwed-up combination of procedures, Knock Out was still driven by the desire to learn at spark. Though he focused his efforts in medicine and cosmetics, there was boundless appeal in many other fields of science.

Theoretical physics, however, was not one he’d really ever paid much mind to.

Maybe he should have. At least then he might have had some clue for just how he was able to spontaneously travel back in time.

While thinking about the specifics intrigued him, it also made him rather uneasy. He’d never looked into the possibility, but from what he’d heard from those who had, it was something that was not good to mess around with. Paradoxes were the main concern. 

He was pretty sure it was time travel and not an alternate universe that he’d ended up in. Then again, maybe his travel had  _ created _ a parallel universe? That solved most of the issues that the question of travelling back in time raised. Although he’d experienced it, technically, the future hadn’t happened in this universe. Which would prevent the possibility of a paradox. He couldn’t create inconsistencies with a future that never existed. 

This was all  _ way _ beyond his expertise. He could fix mechs. He could  _ not _ fix the time-space continuum.

  
Lucky for him, it didn’t seem all that broken.

Besides the things he changed with his actions, events played out as he remembered them. Airachnid and Breakdown’s mission with the polarity gauntlet (Knock Out had to stop himself from killing her the second he laid optics on her), the mess with the data cylinder (he saw what synthetic energon did to a mech-- he wasn’t letting that formula anywhere  _ near _ the  _ Nemesis _ ), Ratchet’s misguided attempts to fight the entire Decepticon army on his own (again, synthetic energon. Knock Out was not a fan.)

The whole thing with Unicron and Optimus Prime having a Decepticon phase still happened, and though Knock Out probably could have made that go a little smoother, he refrained. He’d never thought about that much before and he didn’t want to think about it  _ now. _ Whatever Prime and Megatron had going on after hours was really not his business.

Starscream still skedaddled, and Knock Out was happy to see him go. One less variable he’d have to worry about.

Killing Silas ended up having a few more repercussions than he’d expected it to. The main one was the Autobots showed up at a lot more of their missions. He supposed now that they weren’t distracted with the organization, they could afford to pay the Decepticons more attention. MECH was still around, of course, but without their leader they were splintered and hardly even a blip on the radar. Not that the ‘cons had really paid them much attention the last time either.

He was a little worried that killing Silas so soon might’ve changed something irreparably. But MECH had been more the Autobots’ problem than theirs. Besides that one little incident. In any case, he would’ve been happy to do it again, if he had the chance.

The datapad of events he remembered barely left Knock Out’s servos anymore. There was always some new detail resurfacing that he needed to add, an exact quote from someone that might have been useful. He was certain his constant tapping at the glowing surface was getting him some worried looks, but he couldn’t be bothered with the thoughts of others. He had to be sure he didn’t mess up a single thing.

He realized somewhat belatedly that he should probably keep track of the events that were different as well, and sighed as he made a new folder and started writing things down. He was almost certain he’d gotten something mixed up somewhere. An event that happened in one timeline not happening in the other. Some were easy, like anything involving MECH, but a lot of the less critical missions were blurred in his processor. Had Bumblebee punched him during that energon retrieval mission? Or was it Arcee, because Bumblebee didn’t lose his t-cog this time and was off chasing some vehicons around? 

The complexities that came with trying to remember the precise details of the differences was one of the factors that stopped him from changing things any more than he already was. A good Decepticon would have used their knowledge of the future to turn the tide of war heavily in their favor. Predict the enemy’s movements and plan accordingly, tell Megatron everything that went wrong so he could stop it. He could imagine if someone like Dreadwing had been sent in his place. They’d have the war done and won within a week.

But Knock Out was not a good Decepticon. Pit, according to the lack of an emblem anywhere on his frame, he wasn’t a Decepticon  _ period. _ So he kept his hindsight to himself and used it selfishly. It wasn’t like anyone would’ve expected anything different from him.

Along with the complications with remembering differences it brought up, changing things had a lot more ripples in the timeline than it would seem at first glance. If he changed too much now, enough things could change in the near future that his insider knowledge would be useless. Actions that helped in the short-term might have unintended consequences in a long-term scope. That damned butterfly effect. 

Which was the only reason he didn’t kill Airachnid early. He was the medic-- if he wanted a mech dead, there wasn’t much anyone else could do to stop it. Though offlining her now would prevent Breakdown from trying to fight her and getting himself killed, it also removed the one defining event that Knock Out knew would happen, which meant he would be flying blind. And something else could very well kill Breakdown some  _ other _ way that he wasn’t aware of.

He  _ would _ kill her. When the time came, and not a second before. 

Breakdown would  _ not _ die a second time.


	7. (Honesty is) The Best Policy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was walking away. He was leaving. And he was mad before going this time, and he always did stupid things when he was mad, and it was being stupid that got him killed in the first place. It was his anger that had gotten him killed. And now he was angry again, but it was Knock Out’s fault this time. He was leaving, and he was mad because of Knock Out, which meant it was Knock Out’s fault he was going to die again. He’d killed his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO early chapter because i feel like it!! also because ive been watching TFP with some friends and we got to "Thirst" and now im having kobd feelings again. 
> 
> the last one will be posted this Sunday, Sept 13th :) 
> 
> hope yall are ready for some gays and also possible OOC-ness

The days leading up to the one he knew as the day Breakdown died were some of the most stressful of Knock Out’s life. Every time his partner got a comm he feared it would be the one calling him to join Dreadwing on a mission to eliminate Airachnid. Every time Breakdown was out of his sight he panicked, thinking he somehow missed the date and Breakdown was already in pieces out in the middle of the woods somewhere. The need to stay with Breakdown that had been there since he’d gotten pulled back was amped up to eleven. He hardly even recharged, worried Breakdown might slip out while he was asleep.

He was sitting at the desk, checking his datapad for the fifth time that hour, when he heard a brief hiss of static. It was followed by the sound of Breakdown getting to his pedes.

“Where are you going?”

“Got something to do,” he started towards the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Knock Out felt cold fear grip his spark. It was happening again. He was going to lose Breakdown again. He was leaving, and he was going to be killed-- but it was fine. Knock Out could save him. He could  _ fix it. _ “Breakdown,” he said, gripping the datapad tight enough to put divots in the glass surface. “Wait.”

His partner paused, glancing back. “Yeah?”

“Don’t go on the mission.”

“What?” 

“The mission. The one that Dreadwing called you for,” his servos were shaking, “don’t go.”

“How’d you--”

“I just know. Please trust me, Breakdown, it’s a bad idea. Send some vehicons in your place. Let Dreadwing go on his own. Just-- don’t go.” He wanted to get up, grab Breakdown and hold on tight enough that he couldn’t leave. But he couldn’t make his legs work. 

“Knock Out,” Breakdown walked over to kneel in front of him. “I know you say everything’s fine, but you’ve been acting differently ever since we got on this ship. At first I thought you might just be weirded out about not being solo anymore, but it’s been a while, and you’re  _ still _ acting strangely. Don’t get me wrong, I like spending time with you. But you’ve been…  _ clingy, _ lately, and it’s a little concerning.” He rested his servos on Knock Out’s thighs in a show of comfort. “I want to help you. But I can’t unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s--” No, something might go wrong. “I can’t.”

“You  _ can’t?” _

“I can’t tell you.”

Breakdown scowled. “Why not?”

“I just… can’t _.” _

The digits on his legs tightened to an almost painful grip before letting go. “Fine,” he said as he got to his pedes and turned away. “You can figure out your scrap on your own time. We’ll talk when I get back.”

He was walking away. He was leaving. And he was mad  _ before _ going this time, and he always did stupid things when he was mad, and it was being stupid that got him killed in the first place. It was his  _ anger _ that had gotten him killed. (Knock Out hardly noticed himself standing and shakily reaching for Breakdown's retreating form.) And now he was angry again, but it was Knock Out’s fault this time. He was leaving, and he was mad because of Knock Out, which meant it was  _ Knock Out’s _ fault he was going to die again. He’d killed his partner.

“Knock Out?”

This was worse than before. He hadn’t fixed anything, he just made it  _ worse-- _ Maybe this wasn’t a gift after all. Maybe Knock Out had been wrong. It wasn’t a chance to change the past, it was a punishment for all the damage he’d caused in his life. He was sent back to relive his partner’s death again. He was sent back to be hurt  _ again. _ It was his own personal hell.

“Knock Out!”

He couldn’t think. His processor was a mess, shouting ten directives at him at once, screaming about how badly he’d messed up and how terrible of a partner he was. Breakdown didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve a partner who’d let him die. He deserved  _ better. _ Knock Out had been given another shot to save him, and he’d squandered it, practically  _ spat _ in Breakdown’s  _ face _ and now he was dead again and it was all Knock Out’s fault--

A jolt of pain snapped him out of his downward spiral. 

Breakdown. Breakdown was still here. He was standing in front of Knock Out, and his servos were on Knock Out’s arms, and he’d just slapped Knock Out. He hadn’t left, he wasn’t  _ dead. _

“Breakdown,” he gasped, pointed digits gripping his partner’s arms tightly enough to scratch the paint. “Don’t leave me again. Please. I can’t-- I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you again, I can’t watch you die.”

“Okay,” Breakdown said, tone low and calm, “alright. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shuddered, all the energy his panic had given him disappearing in an instant, and would’ve collapsed if Breakdown hadn’t already been holding onto him. The bigger mech caught him, lifting him up and carrying him over to the berth. He sat down and set Knock Out on his lap. His arms stayed where they were, wrapped around Knock Out in a hug.

“Is this about… MECH? Those guys that captured me?”

“Not--” Knock Out shook his head. “Not exactly. No.”

There was a sigh. “I know I can’t make you talk to me, but you should at least tell  _ someone _ about what’s bothering you. What--” He went quiet as Knock Out shoved a datapad in his face. “What’s--?”

“Just read it. The code is today’s date in Earth terms.”

Briefly checking his chronometer, Breakdown typed in the set of numbers. He kept one arm around Knock Out as he started going through the files from the beginning.

“This is just reports--”

“Keep reading.”

He obliged. His optic moved as he scanned through the logs. At one point he frowned, and Knock Out figured he must’ve gotten to the first discrepency. “You dodged when I sent Bulkhead flying, though.” 

“I did,” he said, pressing his face against Breakdown’s chest. “Finish it.”

He kept reading, expression twitching at every inconsistency he saw. Then he got to the part where the files caught up with the present moment, saw that they kept going, and his optics went wide. He glanced at Knock Out for a split second before continuing.

As he went on he looked more and more horrified. Eventually he got to the final log, Knock Out’s report of the dissection, and turned the datapad off.

The two sat there in silence.

“Knock Out,” he said, vocalizer laced with static, “what--”

“We never found your body,” Knock Out said numbly. “When Dreadwing came back without you, I wanted to go looking. But Megatron wouldn’t let me. I went anyways, but when I got there, I found nothing but some scraps of metal and bits of webbing. They took you from me and turned you into a monster. That parasite came back, and Megatron let him in, and I had to see  _ you  _ walking around knowing that you weren’t actually there. I watched him puppet you around. I looked into your optics and saw  _ nothing _ behind them. And then when he failed, I tore you apart. I thought you’d find it funny.”

His servos were shaking. He was pretty sure Breakdown’s were as well.

“So I can’t,” he murmured. “I can’t let you go. I can’t lose you again. I know you won't be hurt the same way, not by him, but she'll still tear you to pieces. Even I can't fix that. I just-- I can't let you go. Not when I have the chance to save you.” 

The arms around him were almost painful with how tight they were holding him, but he wasn’t about to complain. He’d never complain about anything Breakdown did ever again if it meant he’d stay.

“Knock Out,” Breakdown said, “I-- I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don’t apologize,” he snapped, digits tightening and chipping Breakdown’s paint again. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t  _ choose _ to die-- you were killed. And kidnapped. You did  _ nothing _ wrong.”

“Yes, I did.” 

“You--”

“I left you alone.”

Knock Out went quiet. Breakdown rocked a bit where he sat. “I might not have done it on purpose. But I should’a known better than to go after that tricky piece of slag on my own. It was dumb of me, and it was dumb of me to not think about you before I went and did something reckless. I should have thought about the possibility of what might happen to you if I died. And I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” he said immediately. “Just don’t do it again.”

Breakdown laughed, but it sounded like he was about to start crying. “I won’t. I promise. Cross my spark.”

Several moments passed in comfortable silence.

Then Breakdown spoke again; “So. Time travel, huh?”

Knock Out sighed heavily. “Don’t ask. If I knew what exactly had happened, I’d have written it down, but for now I’m quite happy not to question good things when they come to me without explanation. Questioning them is usually how those ‘good things’ get taken away. There’s a human phrase for it, ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’ Not sure what horses have to do with anything, but the general idea is there.”

“You have to be at least a  _ little _ curious as to how it happened.”

“Of course I am. I’m still intellectually inclined, after all. But…” He traced over the scrapes in Breakdown’s paint his digits had made. He’d have to touch those up later. “I couldn’t know for sure that it was real. I thought that if I tried to find logic in it, if I tried to prove that it was real, I’d end up proving it  _ wasn’t _ and be right back where I started. I was happy to continue on even if it was all a lie.”

“Why?” Breakdown moved his arm to take Knock Out’s servo in his own. “Why would you bother trying to change things if it wasn’t even real?”

“Because I got to see you again. Alive and well and whole.” He tilted his head up and pressed a kiss against the corner of Breakdown’s mouth. Breakdown hummed, turning to kiss him properly. “If it turned out this all was just a dream,” he said against Breakdown’s lips, “I’d never have wanted to want to wake up.”

Breakdown gave another pleased hum. He seemed content to just sit there and let Knock Out plaster him with affection, then something must have occurred to him because he frowned and pulled away. "When you said earlier, that 'he' wouldn't be able to hurt me-- you meant that human guy from MECH, right? What did you mean by that?"

"Ah…" Knock Out tapped his digits. "I killed him."

"You-- What?"

"Yes, when the Autobots showed to rescue you, and I was late getting home? I was late because I'd stayed behind to take some… preventative measures." In the form of murder. "They managed to revive him last time by sticking him in  _ you, _ but this time around they'll find that much more difficult. Especially considering he's in several pieces that were burnt to a crisp."

Breakdown blinked owlishly. Then leaned over and smushed his face against Knock Out's. "I love you so much," he said, voice slightly muffled.

Knock Out laughed, curling digits around Breakdown's neck and tracing the seams on the back. "Who knew all it took to get to your spark was a little brutal dismemberment? No wonder you stuck around as my assistant for so long-- you just like seeing me tear mechs to pieces."

"Hm, that. I also like seeing you get all protective over me, when  _ I'm _ supposed to be the muscle in this relationship."

"Sometimes protection requires a little less muscle and a little more…" He managed to slip the points of his digits between Breakdown's plating, tracing sensitive circuitry and making the bigger mech shiver. "... _ finesse." _

Breakdown made a noise that was highly unbecoming of someone of his stature (Knock Out would've called it a giggle just to annoy him) and pulled his partner close again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh also, meant to ask, would anyone be interested if i put up some TF OC content up? is there any kind of market for that? none of its actually done but ive got some WIPS lying around


	8. Benefit of Hindsight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things sort of… froze, for a moment. Because Knock Out saw what Breakdown didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado...

Knock Out, having fallen halfway in recharge after the sudden loss of adrenaline following his brief freak-out, snapped awake at the sound of a beeping commlink. "Hmngh?" he said eloquently, patting Breakdown's face to get his attention. "Up," he said. "S'meone's trying to talk t' you."

The mech beneath him sighed wearily as he raised a servo to answer the call, optics dim. "Yeah?"

Knock Out barely had time to fall back asleep before there was a loud curse and he was being shaken. "Hh-- what?!" He shoved at the servos rattling his frame. "What's on fire? It wasn't me, I swear, Starscream's a dirty liar."

A huff. "No. We gotta be backup, c'mon."

"Wha'?"

"Well, since I got  _ distracted, _ Dreadwing decided to go and deal with Airachnid on his own. He managed not to get tricked, though, so now there's an all-out brawl and he comm'd the  _ Nemesis _ for backup. We're getting half a dozen vehicons and if that fails, a very pissed off Megatron who might decide to scrap  _ us _ along with the traitor. So get up, or I'll carry you there."

"Mm, that sounds nice." His processor caught up, and his optics snapped open. He shoved himself up and looked to Breakdown. "Wait-- we?"

His partner grinned. "What, like I'm gonna leave you here to worry about me the whole time I'm gone? Nah. Plus I know how much you like revenge, even if technically the thing worth revenging hasn't happened yet."

A chance to get his saws dirty with the energon of a murderer  _ and _ make sure Breakdown didn't die in the process? "Oh, you know me so well, Breakdown. Help me up."

By the time they were through the groundbridge, the battle was in full swing. Bits of sticky webbing littered the forest floor and clung to the surrounding trees. Dreadwing was stuck to one with his pedes dangling a few feet above the ground, but he seemed more  _ annoyed _ than injured, so Knock Out didn't bother to pay him much mind. He had optics only for Breakdown, tracking his partner's movements as he barreled towards Airachnid where the spider was currently backed up against a pile of rocks and desperately dodging the shots being fired. Sharpened limbs struck at anyone that got too close. She was missing two of her extra limbs, and one of her arms sported a hole that sparked at the edges. Things did not seem to be going in her favor.

Knock Out's spark jumped every time one of her appendages got too close to striking Breakdown for comfort, but he expertly evaded them all. His partner was so talented.

Still keeping one optic on Breakdown, he sidled along the edge of the battlefield around the Vehicons and towards Dreadwing's trapped form. The mech sneered as he got close. "Took you both long enough."

"Apologies," Knock Out said, whipping out his saw with a flourish and getting to work on cutting through the sticky material pinning the other mech. "Had some things to discuss beforehand."

"Were they so important that it could not have waited until  _ after _ the mission was complete?"

Knock Out rolled his optics. "No. It was about the mission. And making sure Breakdown didn't die in the duration."

"What--" 

He was, thankfully, cut off by Knock Out slicing through the webbing enough for it to drop him, landing him on the ground with a loud thud. "You're welcome," he said, patting Dreadwing's helm as the mech got his bearings. He looked back to the fight just in time to see Breakdown swing his hammer and slam Airachnid into the cliff wall behind her with enough force to put a crack in the rock. 

Knock Out shifted closer to the skirmish. He had to be closer. Just in case something went wrong.

Airachnid flung out her uninjured arm, but the webbing missed Breakdown, and the bruiser just grinned. "Bad aim," he said, raising his hammer. "Bad luck." The Vehicons standing in a semi-circle around them all raised their blasters at once, waiting for the signal to fire.

Things sort of… froze, for a moment. Because Knock Out saw what Breakdown didn't.

The shot of webbing that had missed hitting Breakdown hadn't been a result of poor luck or aim at all. It had been a  _ plan.  _ The webbing had hit the cliff above them and gotten caught between it and a jutting slab of stone, making a sticky curtain above their heads. And when Breakdown had raised his arm, he'd gotten caught, which meant he was now stuck with his whole frame exposed for the quick strike of a spidery appendage to stab through his most vital systems. She knew she wasn’t going to survive, but she was hoping she could at least take him down with her.

She would  _ not _ get that chance.

Faster than he thought himself capable of, or perhaps just feeling that way because of the fear running through his wires, Knock Out had his energon prod out and was striking Airachnid in the neck with the thing cranked up to its highest setting. The spider screamed, a hideous static-laden sound, and the Vehicons seemed to take that as their queue. They immediately and simultaneously opened fire on the target. Airachnid barely had time to shoot one last hateful glare at Knock Out before her optics went dark and she was nothing more than a smoking pile of scrap metal.

Save for the whine of weapons powering down, the night was silent.

Breakdown gave a nervous laugh. "Whoops," he said, "guess I should've been paying more attention." He gave the webbing his hammer was stuck in a few experimental tugs. It barely budged.

Knock Out, still trying to process what had just happened, merely gave a nervous laugh. "Just be more careful next time."

That got a short. "Right. Next time. Hey, here's an idea," he said, staying carefully still as Knock Out used him as a perch to climb up and saw him free, "let's literally never do this again?"

"Yes," Knock Out said, "I think two times is plenty."

"Did you two have a previous fight with Airachnid that I was uninformed about?"

They both looked towards the voice. Dreadwing stood there, arms crossed, brow raised. Right-- they weren't alone. "Oh, it's nothing," Knock Out said. "Just a little inside joke." The last of the webbing was sliced away, and Breakdown let his arm fall, catching Knock Out with ease as the shorter mech slid down from his perch and setting him on his pedes.

Dreadwing huffed. "Let's just get back to the ship and inform Lord Megatron of the mission's completion. You," he said, pointing at the Vehicons, then at Airachnid's remains once he'd gotten their attention. "Clean this up. We don't need any filthy organics getting their grubby hands on it."

Breakdown glanced at Knock Out. Knock Out looked over at him. It was the shared look of two people with a very awkwardly relevant inside joke. 

They both knew that Knock Out would be put in charge of getting rid of the corpse. Normally he might've kept it for later use, no point in wasting good scrap, but  _ this _ particular cadaver would end up on the fast track to the incinerator. The parts were probably faulty, anyways, who knew what they might do to another mech? Best not to risk it.

The vehicons gathered up Airachnid, along with all the bits and pieces that had come off of her during the fight, and after a moment there was the familiar crackling of a groundbridge opening a few paces away.

The ship was quiet when they returned. The vehicons carting Airachnid’s remains around followed Knock Out to the medbay, dropped the corpse where he directed them to, then promptly vacated the area. They clearly didn’t want to be around the dead body any longer. Knock Out couldn’t blame them. Normally he reveled in taking mechs apart, but at this point he was just sick and tired of looking at her. 

He wrote up a report of the damages, deemed the intact parts unusable, then dumped the body into the incinerator. Out of sight, out of mind.

For good.

The habsuite was empty when he entered. Breakdown was probably still giving the mission report with Dreadwing. Megatron would be irritated that Breakdown was late and backup needed to be called, but the goal of the mission had been completed, so he ultimately wouldn’t care that much. Knock Out couldn’t say there were a lot of good things about the warlord. But he did appreciate that he cared more for results than how they got them. It gave Knock Out a lot more freedom in what he did.

So long as Optimus wasn’t involved, at least. Really-- Megatron needed to get it through his thick bucket-head that the Prime wasn’t gonna ‘face him.

He laid on the berth for a while, staring at the datapad that held the logs of both timelines on it. If anyone else got a hold of it and managed to unlock it, they’d probably only be confused. Or, if they were present for the events recorded, confused but with a little more context. Time travel would not be their first assumption. 

Probably.

He no longer had much need for it. But destroying it felt a little too  _ final _ for his taste. He stuck it in his subspace instead, where it would end up buried by all the other stuff he kept in there until he remembered its existence and pulled it out to look through it again.

Which was hopefully never. Unless it was to stop Breakdown from dying again, he wasn’t too keen on jumping through time anymore. There were just too many variables that came with it.

He sat up straight as the door hissed open and Breakdown walked inside. His partner’s optic brightened as he spotted Knock Out, and he moved over to wrap him in a comforting hug. They both sighed.

“So,” Breakdown said. “We did it.”

“That we did.”

“I’m still alive and whole-- for the most part, anyways.”

“Yes,” Knock Out murmured, reaching up to brush a careful digit over the patch covering his missing optic. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I tried to arrive sooner, but there were… complications. Uncooperative communications officers.”

“Eh, it’s fine. You got there at all. That’s what matters.” He lifted Knock Out for a moment so he could sit down on the berth, then put him down again in the space between his legs. “I can understand why you waited so long to tell me. I would’a believed you, of course, but… well. I can be stupid.”

“You can. It’s alright, though-- I’ll be smart enough for the both of us.” 

“You can be stupid too.”

“You don’t have to say it to my face!”

Breakdown laughed. Knock Out relaxed into the sound, letting his optics close. He could very easily fall into recharge like this. Wrapped up in big arms and warm plating. He almost did, too, before a memory surfaced and had his optics snapping open again.

“Ah-- that’s right,” he shoved Breakdown’s arms away and got to his pedes, startling the larger mech. “I have a surprise for you. I’d planned to show you earlier, but I got a little distracted with… a rapidly approaching deadline.”

Breakdown raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you now?” A ‘surprise’ from Knock Out could mean any number of things, many of which were of the gory or dangerous variety. Which didn’t mean Breakdown wouldn’t like it-- Knock Out knew his tastes, and they were often just as if not more violent than Knock Out’s own. But he’d appreciate a warning.

Luckily for him, it wasn’t anything of that sort.

“Don’t look,” he said. “I need to finish setting it up. And no peeking.”

That got him a narrowed optic, but Breakdown closed it anyways, covering it with his servo for good measure. Waving a few digits in front of his optic to make sure he was actually covering it, Knock Out gave a satisfied nod and pulled the objects he’d collected out of his subspace, trotting around the room to put everything in its proper place. Looking over his handiwork, he nodded once more, then turned back to face Breakdown. “Alright,” he said. “Done.”

Breakdown opened his optic and blinked a couple times. It widened as he took in the view-- their habsuite, while widely unchanged, now sported several packs worth of glow-in-the-dark stars placed along the walls and ceiling. The strategic placement mimicked real-world constellations. 

He gaped at Knock Out.

“I told you I’d get you those stars,” was all he had the chance to say before he was being tackled in a hug that definitely scraped his paint. He burst out laughing, wrapping his arms around his partner in reciprocation. “I take it they’re to your liking?”

“Very much so,” Breakdown said against his chassis. “I love you.”

Knock Out hummed, pressing himself close against the warmth of his partner. “I love you too.”

Shuffling backwards, Breakdown pulled Knock Out along with him until they were seated on the berth, staring up at the softly glowing shapes around them. Knock Out had his back against Breakdown’s chest (tires pinned tight to his back), and the latter had his arms around his waist in a casual embrace. All in all it was very comfortable, and Knock Out could’ve easily fallen asleep like that. Being cuddled up to Breakdown and knowing he was safe just made him drowsy. Especially after all that excitement earlier.

He almost did nod off, but Breakdown’s voice breaking through the silence caught his attention; “What happens now?”

“Hm?”

“I mean-- in the future. You didn’t talk much about anything besides, uh, what happened to  _ me _ in your records, so… what happens?”

“Hm…” Knock Out shrugged. “Who knows? I doubt this time around is going to be the same. For one,  _ you’re _ here, and for another, Airachnid and MECH  _ aren’t. _ Quite a few things depended on the opposite of both those factors being true.”

“So we’re flying blind?”

“That we are.”

Breakdown hummed, pulling Knock Out a bit closer. “You’re okay with that? Not knowing how things are gonna go?”

On one servo, the thought was terrifying. Since the incident that had brought him back, he’d known every little thing that was going to happen. With some minor exceptions owing to his own interference, of course. But all the big events, all the life-changing ones-- he’d been able to predict those. Remember how they’d gone and be able to react accordingly. It was rather nice not being caught off guard by things that had shaken him the first time they’d happened. Now, though, this change was drastic enough that there was no way the future would run the same course it had before. He was as out of the loop as any other mech.

Which brought about the other point, the counter to his first one; who cared? He’d done perfectly alright for millions of years without the benefit of hindsight. Millions of years, a war, the death of his home planet, countless other life-changing incidents, and he’d had to face all of them with no way of knowing they’d happen. All this time later and he was still alive. 

“Of course,” he said, tilting his head back so he could tuck it under Breakdown’s chin. “I did alright for millions of years without time travel on my side. And you know how I managed that?”

Breakdown got this look on his face, the one he always got when Knock Out was laying the dramatics on thick. It was the one where he wore that funny little smile, the one both infinitely fond and unmeasurably tired, but ultimately used to his partner’s shenanigans. His optic went soft, and he raised a questioning brow like he knew what the answer to the question would be. “How?”

Knock Out smiled, mostly teeth and all affection. “I had  _ you _ .”

He felt his partner’s quiet laugh resonate against his plating, the sound making his spark thrum. It was a reassurance that Breakdown was here, safe, alive and with him, and that he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. It was reassurance that he’d  _ won. _ He’d fixed it. He’d saved his partner.

“And you always will,” Breakdown murmured, “for as long as you’ll let me stick around, at least.”

“How does something like forever sound?”

Breakdown laughed again, loud and bright and clear. “That sounds good to me. Hope you can stand looking at this ugly mug ‘til your spark gives out.”

“Oh, hush.” He lightly smacked his partner’s arm. “There’s lots of different kinds of pretty. You don’t have to look like me to be good looking.”

“You  _ are _ the best looking mech I know.”

“Flattery will get you  _ everywhere. _ ” He sighed, relaxing back against Breakdown and letting his head drop against his partner’s with a quiet  _ clunk. _ “I missed you so much,” he said, voice soft. “When you died, I think I might’ve too. My engine was still running but my spark could’ve gone out for all I felt. Everything was just…  _ dull. _ ”

Breakdown tightened his hold. “I won’t leave you again. I promise.”

Knock Out knew it couldn’t be guaranteed. If this experience had taught him nothing, it had taught him that the future was unpredictable, and second chances were rare. They could both be as careful as they wanted, but they were  _ still _ at war. Their lives were still wrought with violence. A stray blaster shot could land in an unlucky spot and offline either one of them without a moment’s notice. 

So deep down, he knew Breakdown couldn’t possibly hope to keep that promise. But on the surface, in this time and this place, it was enough.

“I love you,” he said.

“You just said that earlier.”

“I know. I wanted to say it again. And wanted to hear  _ you _ say it again.”

Breakdown smiled. That familiar, fond little smile, reserved only for Knock Out and his antics. He leaned down to press a kiss to Knock Out’s audial, and in a voice rumbling and low and utterly present, he murmured a response; “I love you, too.”

Spark feeling light, Knock Out settled back against his partner’s chassis, looking up at the pretend sky that seemed to cradle them, keeping them safe from whatever dangers the outside world may bring. The future was uncertain, and there was a high likelihood that if things went wrong again, Knock Out would not be getting another second chance.

But that was alright. He could manage. 

  
With Breakdown by his side, alive and well and  _ safe, _ he could deal with  _ anything. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who read, kudos'd, and commented on this fic! Seeing so many nice messages and such interest in my work made me VERY happy, and that kind of encouragement makes a writer wanna write more. So while this story is completed, I'm already working on several other ones, and I hope y'all will enjoy those when they eventually come to light.  
> (Notable WIPs; a SkyStar TF:P fic & a KOBD 80s AU, the former of which has just a few scenes and a vague idea of a plot and the latter which has a couple chapters done and an outline for the rest of them)
> 
> This was quite a ride, and this fic is now officially the longest thing I've ever posted. Not the longest thing I've *written* (that honor belongs to a self-insert fic that will never be seeing the light of day ^_^') but the longest thing on my AO3. Multichapter fics don't tend to be my forte; I lose interest in them, or change hyperfixations too quickly, or get discouraged and stop. This was my first real foray into writing something longer than a couple thousand words. 
> 
> If anyone has any lingering questions about this changed canon, or plot points they didn't see addressed that they would want to, please leave a comment down below! I'll do my best to respond to all of them. Once more, thank you all so much for reading, and I'll see you on the flip-side :)  
> -A.R.
> 
> Edit: THANK YOU ALL FOR SUCH NICE COMMENTS I KNOW I HAVENT REPLIED TO MOST OF THEM BUT I PROMISE IVE SEEN THEM ALL AND THEY MADE ME CRY <3

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @whirlandco i rb transformers content xoxo


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